


Rain Upon Remembrance

by Briarwolf (Tru)



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-16
Updated: 2005-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-17 07:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8135227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tru/pseuds/Briarwolf
Summary: Remembering past mistakes doesn't mean you're doomed to repeat them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a birthday fic for Haunt, back in the days of omgmaou. Could be read as a prequel to Forever Is Never Long Enough, but both fics stand on their own.

He looked, often in the beginning, for some reflection of Julia in Yuuri's eyes, but never found exactly what it was that he was seeking. He knows this soul, but now it's different than the one he remembers, impressed with the experiences and emotions of Yuuri's life instead of Julia's.

Even so, the ache that comes with each look into wide, dark eyes is familiar. Memories he had thought would never fade slowly change, no less cherished, but now overwritten by thoughts of the sound of boyish laughter, a longing for what cannot be his.

The boy is too young. He tells himself this over and over; hoping that one of those times he'll come to believe his excuse. Wolfram doesn't seem to care about that, clinging desperately in spite of Yuuri's obvious discomfort with the idea of being engaged.

Sometimes, it makes Conrad wish his younger brother had never met Yuuri at all. But that isn't fair. In spite of it all, he can see that Wolfram cares for Yuuri, and that should be all that matters. So, he tries to keep his distance, and never let himself be seen as more than a loyal friend. It works, until this one mistake.

Even after all the lessons, Yuuri still isn't graceful on a horse, and today rain falls heavily, churning the practice yard to mud. Still, the boy has to learn to deal with all weather conditions, so they continue on schedule. Then Yuuri slips.

It seems natural, the way Conrad catches the boy; he's done it so many times that he could probably manage with his eyes closed. The mud threatens to upset his footing, so he holds Yuuri tight against his chest and notices that the boy's body is trembling slightly, a fact he attributes to chill. His own body is still, it is only his heart that shudders painfully in his chest.

“Heika, I think that's enough. We wouldn't want you to become ill,” before Yuuri can protest, he's nodding to a stable hand and carrying his Maou through the nearest door and back into the warmth of Blood Pledge.

Yuuri is relaxed in his arms, trusting. The thought raises an obscure kind of pain in his chest, if the boy knew... His grip becomes unconsciously fierce, and he lays his cheek against Yuuri's damp hair for just an instant.

It is an instant too long. Yuuri goes very still in his grasp, and when he looks up at Conrad his eyes are wide and curious. The forced smile comes without thought, effortless well-meant deceit. He sits Yuuri carefully on a chair in a vacant sitting room.

“Let me get you a towel, Heika,” he starts to straighten, but Yuuri lifts a hand to the back of his neck and holds him in place.

“Conrad?” Yuuri doesn't meet his eyes at first, but then a determined dark gaze finds his above the faint blush that stains the boy's cheeks. “You wouldn't ever ask me for something I didn't want to give, would you?”

Heart sinking, Conrad clings to his smile by a razor's edge. “Of course not, Heika.”

“Good,” Yuuri answers, and rather than releasing Conrad and moving back, he leans forward and presses a damp, awkward kiss to Conrad's lips.

Frozen, Conrad doesn't move at first, not believing that the hot, soft mouth under his own is Yuuri's. For a moment, he remembers a kiss once offered that he could not let himself take, and the sad, sightless eyes that had followed the sound of his footsteps as he'd walked away. Then, the pendant he'd given to Yuuri had hung heavily against his chest, a chill reminder of everything he could never allow himself have.

Now that weight is gone, and yet his thoughts still focus on every reason for this to be wrong. Yuuri is too young, Yuuri is engaged, Yuuri is the Maou, it is his duty to protect Yuuri, and the truth that hides behind it all, that Conrad is afraid.

Conrad's eyes are still open, and he can faintly see the blurred redness that rises high in Yuuri's cheeks. He cannot fail to miss the disappointed hurt that fills Yuuri's gaze as the boy pulls back, ashamed. Yuuri's mouth opens, some faint apology tripping off his tongue as he lowers his face.

At that, something in Conrad seems to snap. A harsh sound escapes his lips, drawing startled eyes back up to his. The words that had hovered just behind his lips are suddenly forgotten, and his breath catches, the faint glitter of tears on Yuuri's lower lashes all too familiar.

“Yuuri,” the name is strangled, rough and urgent, and Conrad's hands cup heated cheeks that flush darker under his touch. His mouth comes down, demanding and hard, but he cannot make himself ease off now that he has begun.

His tongue sweeps across Yuuri's lips, and the boy opens his mouth in answer, meeting each desperate surge of Conrad's tongue with an inexpert response that makes the back of Conrad's throat ache. Yuuri's arms wrap around Conrad's neck and he pulls. Knees drop heavily to the floor, and Conrad presses Yuuri back into the soft cushions of the chair, hands tracing up the sides of Yuuri's face to let his fingers tangle tightly in the black strands feathered at Yuuri's temples.

Yuuri gasps, pulling their lips apart and sucking in a long, shaking breath. Conrad presses his cheek against Yuuri's chest, listening to the thunder of Yuuri's pulse which seems to beat in quick time with his own. The boy smells like rain, the faint softness of leather, and a hint of ozone sharpness. Eyes closed, he slowly draws his hands free of Yuuri's hair, preparing to straighten, waiting for Yuuri's claim that this had been a mistake.

He starts slightly when one of Yuuri's hands slides though his hair with gentle affection, the other moving to trace a fingertip down the curve of Conrad's cheek. Opening his eyes, he looks up, raising one eyebrow at the wide grin on Yuuri's face.

“We should do that again,” Yuuri says, then blushes dark red in immediate embarrassment, though his grin doesn't fade in the slightest.

In spite of himself, Conrad starts to laugh, and Yuuri quickly joins him. Together like this, it is easy for them to ignore the still-damp chill of their clothes and everything that waits for them outside this room. For the first time in a long time, Conrad lets himself indulge in the warm feeling of hope that blossoms in his chest.


End file.
